Beautifully Chaotic
by itrustyoutokillme
Summary: Michael has to go out of town for work and Sara send's him a little pick me up. Postescape.


Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and slumped back in his high backed chair. The seat rocked backwards and creaked under his weight while his free arm dangled heavily over the moulded plastic arm. The pinch turned into a rubbing motion as Michael sighed and pushed his hand over his eye, blinking with wide eyes to wake himself up. He shot a glance at his watch that counted down his life on his wrist. 5PM.

Was that all? He couldn't stand this much longer. Hearing Sara on the phone everyday was nothing compared to seeing her every day. He had been out of town on work related duties for a week and a half, the burdens of his job having caught up with their blissful lifestyle after all. Sara had been fine about it though, even smiling bravely as she waved off his executive silver Mercedes that morning. Inside, they both were broken.

An echoing knock rumbled through Michael's hotel room and he shifted his gaze to the door suspiciously. It was silent on the other side and a second knock, prompted him to push himself from his chair and approach the door.

"Who is it?" Michael called through the wooden barrier, pressing his face to the spy hole to observe the interruption. Michael peered through the glassy observatory circle and dropping his gaze to a man, shuffling from foot to foot with a padded envelope in one hand. He was shorter than Michael, and very much younger. He wore dirty running sneakers and a cycling helmet, his dark hair poking out from behind his ears, and chewed gum.

"Uh…" the boy began, lifted his lazy head to peer at a name upon a sheet of paper he held in one hand. Cycling gloves covered half of his hands, their fingertips missing and his grubby nails exposed to view. "…package for Michael Scofield," he yelled, his thick New York accent bouncing around the hallway where he turned, taking in the fine décor with a frown.

Michael twisted the handle and pulled the door free from the frame. The delivery boy spun on his heels to face Michael, his head titling backwards when he had to look up. He offered Michael a clipboard with the crumpled sheet of paper attached and a pen that donned some royal blue smudges near its tip. Michael took both of the items and began scrawling his name onto the dotted line.

"You cycled here?" Michael asked the boy, clipping the pen back to the rounded cornered board and handing it back to him. The boy exchanged objects with Michael, relinquishing the soft, crumpled envelope that rustled between hands. He slid a rucksack from his shoulder and unzipped it quickly, put the clipboard inside after scribbling his own initials to it and then threw the nylon sack back onto his back with a grin.

"Gets things to places quicker because we can dart through traffic and stuff," he told Michael proudly. "We deliver faster than UPS some times," he said through a grin that Michael feebly returned. "See you around mister," he called back to Michael as he jogged from the room leaving Michael and his frowned features set upon the parcel in his hand.

Michael instantly recognised the writing on the front as he let the door swing closed by itself with a gentle push. The fine italic handwriting was unmistakably that of a doctor, looping and swirling his name upon the yellow parchment. Michael wet his lips and shook the parcel; its contents were silent, only the faintest scraping of plastic against bubble wrap filling his ears.

Michael's footsteps fell silently onto the ruby red hotel carpet fibres as he moved back towards his makeshift desk. Perching back in the chair, he slid his humming laptop across the surface of the table and moved the parcel in his hands. One finger lifted the sealed edge, pulling it free from the opposing layer of glue with ease and a tearing sound. Michael pressed the sides of the parcel and titled it sideways, a crystal clear unmarked DVD sliding onto desk with a clatter.

Michael's face twisted and he lifted the parcel to his eye level, inspecting the parcel for more contents. There was nothing but the flattened bubbles so he discarded it to one side. Picking up the case, Michael twisted it from side to side, inspecting the reflective surface for any writing. Again, it was blank, only the sheen of a rainbow hitting the ceiling with each turn of the disc.

A light chuckle tumbled from Michael's lips and he grinned from ear to ear. "What are you up to, Sara?" he said to himself in a low voice. Winter was setting in outside, turning the daytime into darkness prematurely. The hotel room was adequately heated, but a chill from the window behind him crept up Michael's spine and made him shiver. Shaken from his thought, he swivelled in his chair and pulled the long, lined cream drapes together.

When he span back around he pulled his chair closer to the desk and at the same time, slid his laptop towards him. The silver device was on sleep, the screen black and a tiny green LED flashing intermittently on its side. It immediately churned to live with a whirr when Michael tapped one of the square, black keys twice. A bright blue screen sprang into view, void of icons and graphic stimuli. Michael kept his computer obsessively tidy, hiding all icons until he needed them.

With a few clicks of the mouse mad, the icons appeared and Michael double clicked on his DVD player. He opened the DVD Sara had sent him, and pressed it free with a creaking of plastic. Michael's toes tingled in his thin black socks and he dragged them across the soft carpet under his desk in anticipation, bending them under his low set chair. Michael slid the disc into the velvety drive and the laptop sucked in it quickly, whizzing to life and reading the data.

Michael's cursor found the file menu in the player and he opened the appropriate drive and leant back in his seat. A smirk played across his lips and he propped his head up on his elbow, resting his face onto his palm and hiding his crooked smile beneath his huge hand; a smile that represented his love of the unknown, especially the unknown in the form of a disc from Sara. The screen was black, a slight crackle in the audio and Michael waited in silence.

Without warning, Sara's soft moans escaped the speaker and a second later her images flashed before his eyes. She was naked, her pearly smooth skin exposed to the camera that had been positioned off to one side of the bed, angled directly on her body. The edited video made Michael's eyes go wide and he sat bolt upright in his chair, leaning towards his laptop with a mouth that hung open and dry.

Michael's heart pounded in his chest, echoing through his ears, fighting for space with Sara's self-pleasuring moans. His chest began to rise and fall as he gulped in shallow breaths, his whole being suddenly awake and very alert to her presence. There was something beyond erotic about what Sara was doing, and the fact Michael knew he was the only one who would ever see it, sparked a primal, possessive streak in him to ignite.

"Oh Michael…" Sara panted. When Sara breathed his name, her eyes were clenched tightly shut and her lips darted out between groans to wet her drying lips. Her hands were busy kneading her aching breasts, playfully pulling at the pert rosy nipples, causing a gentle whisper to escape her lips. Michael's mind raced as he took him her image, his eyes burning where he needed to blink and moisten his eyeballs. Unable to muster the will power to do much else, his hands quickly found the mouse pad and he paused the DVD.

Michael sat back in his chair again, face flushed and body sweating through the thin grey t-shirt stuck to his skin onto the leather chair. He exhaled hard, scanning the room for the prying eyes he knew would not be found and run a clammy hand over his mouth and slid it off the delicate stubble that littered his jaw. Michael's heart raced, beating in its bony prison quicker than anything he had ever experienced. His groin was far more than tingly, blood pumping to his exerted erection that fought to stay solid in his restricting pants.

Michael's eyes found the screen once again and Sara was frozen with one of her hands midway between her breast and her soft, dark auburn mound. Michael squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head into the back of his chair, jaw clenched and two hands pressed together resting against his lips. It looked like Michael was praying, asking for an answer to his sudden, painful, arousal. His eyes peeled open and he leapt from his creaking chair, yanking his belt from his pants and dropping it to the bed as he reached the sleeping area of the hotel room.

Michael perched uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, his face wincing slightly when he bent over his knees to pull his socks off his, constricting his throbbing member even more. Michael quickly stood bare foot and shakily took his pants off, unbuttoning them hastily and letting them drop to his feet where he stepped from them. His boxers were dark grey and clung to his skin and Michael tugged at the material between his legs, rearranging himself so he was more comfortable.

As he padded back over to the chair Michael skidded to a stop, almost falling over himself as he spun around and skipped to the bathroom on tip toes. He desperately rolled some tissue paper from the holder, bunching it in his hand and then obeying his straining body and returning to his seat in front of the laptop. Sara's image was still frozen, teasing him, begging him to press the play button. Which he did.

Like a gust of air leaving her lungs, Sara groaned into the room. The hair on her skin had prickled to life, trapping a thin layer of warm air between them and encasing her in faux heat. One of her hands busily tugged at her rounded mounds while her other slid lower down her body agonisingly slow, teasing her centre when it trailed around the entrance. Michael gulped hard, his throat pushing the offending lump of air down quickly. He didn't want to blink, his eyes pinned open and fixated on Sara's writhing form as he slid his flat palm down his taught abdomen and under the waistband of his boxers.

Pre-ejaculate had already oozed from him, creating a damp patch on the front of his boxers, making the grey cotton wet and black. Michael lifted his behind from the chair and slid his underwear down, letting it rest at his bent knees. He shook in the black leather, trying to hold his orgasm off as long as possible while Sara called his name in her passionate attack on her own body.

Michael held his breath as he took his boiling hot member in his hand, wrapping his thick fingers around the girth gingerly with a hiss. His head fell back against the padded leather of the chair, his eyes half open but still focused on the plasma panel before him. As Sara slid a digit into her sopping folds, Michael shifted in the chair, halting his languid stroking for a split second and letting his release fade away.

Sara rode her hand, her bottom lip appearing white where she bit into it and sighed erotically; crumpling the bed sheet each time she twisted her body. Michael's hand slid up and down his length quickly, his stinging eyes blinking his mind reminding him to rewind that missed split second later on. Michael's chest heaved with each pant, desperately trying to find the oxygen to fuel his pace. A second hand moved to his lap, pressing at the base of his penis while the other twisted around his member, lubricating his length with pre cum.

"Sara…oh god," Michael growled when Sara retracted her silky wet fingers from herself and trailed them up her electrified body. The fingers found her sweet pink mouth and her tongue lapped at her juices, tasting herself with a groan while her thigh squeezed together, exciting the bundle of nerves between them. Michael licked his lips as he watched, pressing his eyes closed and imagining the honey like taste of Sara's nectar.

When he opened his eyes again, Sara had retrieved a rubber dildo from her side, previously hidden by the camera angle. Michael took another gulp of needed air when he realised what it was. The flesh coloured member was a replica of his, a joke between him and Sara that now seemed far more serious. Lincoln had thought a "Mould-a-cock: Do-it-yourself Dildo" set a fantastic Christmas gift for them both and now Michael suddenly agreed.

"You remember this Michael?" Sara broke the silence, her head lolling sideways so her eyes were staring straight into the camera lens. Into Michael. She raised the sex toy to her lips and licked at the end, closing her lips around it and humming with satisfaction. Michael nodded hastily, his body shuddering in the rickety chair.

Michael swapped hands and began stroking his length with his other hand, his wrist twisting loosely at the end of each stroke. His leg began to shake when Sara pulled the toy from her lips and it found her already aroused core entrance, her juices coating the tip of the fake member. Michael felt her scorching entrance on the tip of his penis and he brushed his palm over it lightly, causing him to flinch with welcomed pain.

"Oh Michael…" Sara groaned on a whisper, taking the member inside of herself with a long thrust. Her back arched of the bed and her hips angled down, taking in the replica of Michael with ease. Michael swapped hands back to his original combination and pounded at his abdomen each time his hand met his body, his stroke rate increasing tenfold and his breath being beaten from his body. "You feel so good…" Sara uttered, pulling the dildo from her and then pushing it home quickly.

As Sara's pace increased, so did Michael's and his ragged breath was cut even shorter as he pulverized his diaphragm through his tattooed abdomen. Sara's breathing became even higher in pitched, almost gasps as she struggled to keep her body from exploding. Michael gritted his teeth, desperate to fight back his orgasm and watch Sara's release first so when she threw her head back into the pillows and frantically pushed the rubber toy into her sporadically on a held breath, Michael's own rapture took him over.

They came together in a well time dance of chaos that was beautiful. Blinded by a flash of white, all Michael could hear was his name being shrieked into the room from his laptop. He pulled his damp shirt up his chest and seconds later his skin was met with warm droplet as he ejaculated over his abdomen. Michael gasped for breath, and rode his ecstasy down with slow, deliberate caresses of his still hard member. Michael swallowed a mass of saliva down his throat, his lightly sweated brow burning from his exertion.

"Michael?" Sara voice shook him from his moment and he head snapped towards the screen where she had crawled forward so she was laying directly in front of the camera on her stomach. Michael stared at her hazel orbs expectantly, tissue poised above his indigo chest where he had begun to clean himself up. "Hurry home," she purred and with a sly smile she reached and turned the camera off.

Michael smirked and dabbed at the rest of the sticky white substance on his skin. The DVD stopped and ejected itself from the laptop, the sound of the player disc fading away and leaving a faint hum that was almost not heard. Michael pulled his boxers back over his behind and tucked his penis back into his underwear before he pulled his shirt back down to cover his flesh once more. Reaching over to the side of his laptop, Michael plucked the telephone from its charging unit and dialled home.

"Hello?" Sara chimed as she answered the call, unsure of the caller when "unknown" had appeared her caller ID out of the blue.

"You little minx," Michael growled into the receiver, his deep velvety voice still full of passion. Sara smiled and relaxed a little.

"You got the DVD then," Sara smirked, pressing the phone closer to her ear as if it were really Michael. Michael chuckled low in his chest.

"Oh god yeah," he breathed, his voice drizzling across the country like melted honey. "I'm half naked right now. It was so…" Sara giggled when he puffed air from his mouth, inhaled and then grunted as he recalled the DVD playing back through his mind, unable to describe it sufficiently. "You wait until I get home," he threatened seductively, a threat that make Sara's skin tingle with excitement.

"Don't forget to hurry," she cooed with a blush, her grin wide and her cheek dimpled. "I need a thank you," she said with implied intent. "And nothing says thank you like hot, ravenous sex Michael," Sara smiled.

Michael's body twitched to life again, and his already spent erection perked to life once more. Michael glanced down at his groin and then his eyes flickered to the DVD sitting on his laptop. "I'll be home early," Michael promised.


End file.
